Road to Recovery
by HellRaiserAlchemist
Summary: [Collection of short, vaguely connected one-shots] Michael and Adam try to adjust to life outside of the Cage after five years. Some things are easy; others, not so much. [Heavily AU, also featuring a living!Gabriel and sane!Cas. Rated for trigger content]
1. Routines

[Taken from my tumblr]

Here have some random… thing. Because shut up.

Here, have some angst-laced, post!Cage Adam/Michael… stuff. Heavily AU. (Gabriel's alive, Michael and Adam are out of the Cage, Michael has a separate vessel, etc.,etc..)

**trigger warning for implied self-inflicted injuries and psychological torture**

* * *

It's not enough to physically be out of the Cage.

Adam can't count the number of times Michael's had to hold him down to keep him from hurting himself or—now that they're back with Dean and Sam—how many times he's been locked in the panic room and strapped down to the bed there. Michael's never far away, but he's… different. He doesn't radiate like he did before the Cage. He still walks with a sense of purpose and he still gives off an air of confidence (or, maybe it's something else; because Gabriel and Castiel have become increasingly flighty around the Archangel), but not… something's missing.

He keeps his distance from Adam, even when he obviously doesn't want to. He'll inch forward and then shy away; he'll help hold the human down until Dean or Sam or Bobby manage to strap him to the bed and then back off into a corner; he'll stay perched on a chair, sometimes the table, and just observe until he's given explicit permission to come closer. (Permission is more of an understatement; really, it's little more than Adam snapping for him to stop fucking around.)

And when he's given that 'permission', he'll be on the bed before the threats can leave Adam's lips; he'll have his arms secured firmly around his former vessel and just stay in that spot until Dean or Sam comes to check on Adam. The second the door to the Panic Room opens, he's back in the corner, back on the desk, on the chair… and Adam has a few, terrible minutes of panic—those few minutes where he'll be back in the Cage and it isn't just Michael drawing away; it's Lucifer tearing Michael away, it's two Graces—one completely twisted to adapt to the Cage, the other still fighting and starting to lose—ripping into each other without any conscious thought.

Eventually, they'll draw away from each other. Lucifer snarling out curses that Adam can't make out without Michael; and, Michael will curl around Adam, cleanse him of what taint he can, and return to his vessel in some desperate attempt to heal faster than he knows he will. Michael will have his arms around Adam, mumbling old prayers and borderline nonsense—nonsense that Adam's learned to recognise as Michael reciting the years of history he's watched from Heaven—in a desperate attempt to keep sane. And, Adam lets him; he lets Michael cling as tightly as he needs to and knots his fingers in the Archangel's wings for the few minutes they have before Lucifer pulls himself back together.

Outside of the Cage, he doesn't have that certainty.

When he's strapped down, he can't reach for Michael; and, even when Michael throws Dean and Sam (and Castiel and Gabriel) out of the panic room with more force than he needs to, when Michael rips the restraints away to hold Adam still himself and assure him that everything's all right, Adam can't hold onto the words. He screams when the memories don't leave and especially so when they don't continue like they should. When reality and memories blur and Michael isn't torn away from him when he should be, the panic gets worse. He's waiting for Lucifer to tear Michael away—to tear him apart, even—and when it doesn't happen, he doesn't calm down.

He knows it's coming; it's just a matter of time and a matter of Lucifer toying with his head, no matter how often Michael tries to tell him otherwise.

It isn't enough to physically be out of the Cage; not after centuries on top of centuries of listening to hissed words and a terrifying routine that he's gotten far too used to.

Michael tries to tell him it's over and that he's safe; but, he doesn't believe him. Not because of the Cage (well, perhaps that has some sort of contribution), but because Michael doesn't believe it. Michael's just as shattered and terrified of the broken routine as he is.


	2. Tattoos

It was going to be tattoo kink. But uh. It got away from me, I got distracted by Broken Angel.

[Also on my tumblr]

* * *

The first thing they do (after they _finally_ take him off suicide watch, which was _stupid as Hell_ to begin with), is tell him they're getting him a tattoo.

Adam blinks at his half-brothers a few times, convinced that he misheard them in his still-half-asleep daze. But, judging from the way Michael suddenly looks upset and pulls him into an almost too tight grip, he'll assume he heard right. He remembers wanting to get a tattoo—just a pair of dates, just because his mother hadn't gotten a proper grave or tombstone carving—and the long-winded lecture that the Archangel had given him about defiling his body. It had been… interesting, to say the very least, and turned into a snip fest when Adam had pointed out—muttered, really—that Michael using him as a vessel was enough of a defilement. (Adam's never going to tell Dean or Sam about that; they'll take it the wrong way and completely ignore if he tries to tell them that he hadn't been snapping at _Michael_… just at… Heaven as a whole. Maybe Zachariah, but not Michael.)

At any rate, that was when they first met and when Adam was still reeling from… things he shouldn't be thinking about right now, if the way Michael goes from clinging to holding his wrists in a much more delicate manner is any indication. Still, he finally shakes his head and gives Dean a pointed look, one that says he's not amused by their idea of a joke.

"Seriously? Guys. What makes you think I even _want_ a tattoo?"

"Don't be a smart ass—"

"Dean." Sam gives the oldest that _look_ (the kicked puppy, 'let me handle this, please' look), before turning a much more reassuring, if not worried, look on Adam, "It's just a precaution, Adam. Anti-possession symbol—"

Michael suddenly snarls at the two older brothers and, if Adam weren't startled by the sudden violence coming from his Archangel, he might be amused. Instead, he turns to shushing Michael and bats at his arms until he finally stops snapping threats in Enochian… well… until he finally stops making the house shake, at any rate. He's still muttering the threats under his breath and—if the expression on Castiel and Gabriel's faces are anything to go by—they're only getting more creative and _much more_ explicit. Adam shakes his head, lets Gabriel handle it (though, the other Archangel looks absolutely terrified when he inches forward to pull his older brother a bit ways off in an attempt to calm him down; they don't go far. Just enough that Adam has to stretch his arm back a little so Michael still has a grip on his wrist), and quirks a brow at the Winchesters, "So…what's a whatever you said? And why do I want it?"

Sam's watching Gabriel and Michael now—quite specifically, he actually looks terrified of the thought of Michael ripping Gabriel apart… and Adam doesn't particularly blame him—and Dean still looks more than a little alarmed by the outburst. Castiel shakes his head and picks up for them, almost too easily, "It's a simple symbol, just to ensure there is no demonic possession in your foreseeable future. Dean and Sam have already had their symbols marked into their skin, it _would_ make sense for you to get one as well." He shifts his eyes to Michael and Gabriel, adding in a much quieter voice (as though he's afraid of incurring his oldest brother's wrath, which _he should be_), "We cannot always be here to protect the three of you."

Adam gives Michael's hand a sharp tug when he tries to turn on the younger angel (mostly because of the odd angle it catches his own arm) and shakes his head a bit when the Archangel is so easily distracted and goes back to clinging.

"Ok. So—ow, Mike, loosen up. I'm not going anywhere," He batters his angel, absently and tries not to smile when it earns him an insistent, muffled whine against his neck. He does, however, give in to smirking in amusement when Sam looks moderately disturbed and Dean looks like he _wants_ to try banishing Michael, "Anyways. Why can't they just do some weird angel mojo bullshit like when _someone_ decided that branding my ribs was a good idea as soon as I came back to life?"

Castiel flinches, quite visibly, and Adam can only assume that Michael's glaring at him. He bites back to sigh and batters the Archangel again, "_Michael_."

"We _could_," He finally concedes after a moment longer. He sounds annoyed when he presses back into Adam's neck, "But… they may be correct. At the very least, the… tattoo would be considerably less painful."

"Wait, you guys could have anti-possession branded us?" Dean's eye twitches and he scowls when Gabriel gives a dry laugh. Castiel looks uncomfortable and refuses to meet anyone's gaze—especially Dean and Michael's. (If Adam were in a worse mood, he might bite out a mocking comment at the angel; but, he supposes it's enough watching him writhe under the glares.)

"Anti-possession symbol straight-up means a demon can't possess you," Gabriel starts and dares to fluff Adam's hair up when he walks by (Michael promptly snarls at him) to jump onto his usual perch next to Cas, "An Enochian ward would… ah… how would we explain this. Mike, help me out here, you were always better at scaring the crap out of people."

Michael gives him an annoyed look and rolls his eyes, "In the simplest terms, it's like a human immunization shot. The demon still gets in, but as soon as they are, the sigils will trap them and repel or, ultimately, exorcise them, while using the vessel as a living Devil's Trap. It's a rather extreme method that none of us are particularly partial to."

And, as interested as Adam might be, that _doesn't_ sound remotely fun. So, he nods and—after a while longer of having to convince Michael that 'No, Mike, you aren't going, you and Gabriel and Cas are going to _stay the fuck here_.'—finally lets Dean and Sam drag him into town.


	3. Ink & Rings

A few months after the last chapter.

Applied headcanon: Adam has tattoos all over his back. What started out as simple additions to make the anti-possession symbol on his lower back look less like devil worship, became a canvas. He makes certain to get the most intricate designs where he knows Michael pays the most attention to ease him into accepting the ink.

[Also on my tumblr.]

* * *

It's a surprisingly calm weekend, all things considered.

Dean and Sam have—somehow, Adam isn't sure _how_, but _somehow_—managed to not piss anything off within a two day driving distance. Which, along with the fact the kitchen's still in one piece at noon, seems to be a miracle in and of itself. Gabriel's… well, Adam doesn't ponder it too long; he knows trying to figure out where the runaway Archangel is hiding generally summons him—_completely_ unintentionally—and he's in no mood to put up with Gabriel running off with his turnover. Especially since he had to keep Dean out of the kitchen and make the damn thing with Michael insisting on being attached to him. (For some reason, the Archangel's been extra clingy all week and Adam isn't entirely sure _why_.)

But, the point is, he finally has a fresh, still wonderfully hot, cherry turnover and he doesn't even have to sit at the table with Dean to enjoy it. He contents to just leaning back on Michael and indulging himself (and occasionally trying to feed Michael a bite, though it generally fails), while his Archangel is fixating on the scars from the Cage again. It's not something Dean's caught onto yet (the fact that Michael's hands are always in the same place—a little too high above his hip on the right to cover the claw marks there—and flat against his chest, just below his heart—just enough that he can cover the scar from Lucifer _literally_ trying to rip his heart out and still feel the steady heartbeat, and that he's always pressing careful kisses to a jagged scar that drags along the back of Adam's neck, or just keeping his cheek close to the mark) and still makes amusing—and annoying—remarks about it.

"Is there _any_ point in me asking if he's going to stop any time soon?"

Adam snorts into his turnover and lets himself be amused (perhaps more than he should) by the uncomfortable glare that Dean keeps throwing Michael. The Archangel isn't listening, at all, and his focus is completely devoted to the scar, like he's trying to will his Grace to heal it, never mind he knows that it won't work.

"One day, I'll figure out why you _bother_ asking. You know he's not going to."

"You never even try to get him to stop!"

"In case you haven't noticed, he's kind of really fucking distracted, Dean." Adam rolls his eyes, "Once he gets started, it's going to take a while for him to let go. _Get the fuck over it_."

"You could _at least_ go be all cuddle-y and shit in _your room_. We cleared out the spare so you'd have a damn room and you two wouldn't have to share the couch." Dean scowls, his glare still fixed, quite intently, on Michael, "Though, given his apparent lack in understanding the concept of personal space, I'm pretty damn sure you two would have been fine on the couch."

"Says the fucker who can't even get a damn hug from his angel in public." Adam snaps back; he's never been above using Cas against Dean, especially when it comes to their apparently _strained_ relationship, no matter how many times Sam asks him to leave it alone. That and, he always feels a tiny spark of smug pride when Dean's eye gives a violent twitch.

"Look. As _happy_ as I am that you're in a remotely _stable relationship_," He bites the words out and Adam's actually kind of surprised he isn't growling yet, "Can't you do that _somewhere else_?"

Adam's pretty sure he gives him a bitchface because Dean looks even less amused that he did seconds earlier, "Fuck you, we were in here first."

"Are you _really_ going to start that? _Really_?"

"You started it." Adam shrugs, "M'just making a point. Me an' Mike were in here first. Go bother Sam if we're disturbing you."

There's a few seconds of silence, mostly filled with Adam trying to rearrange his and Michael's arms just enough that he can get another cut of turnover without dislodging the Archangel. Apparently, he fails; because Michael makes an annoyed, distressed whine against his neck and just pulls him back, stubbornly. And, that's enough for Dean; he throws his hands up in exasperation, "Jesus-fucking-Christ! Why don't you two just get married already?"

And, really, Adam has a retort ready on the tip of his tongue; but, to his surprise (and Dean's), Michael beats him to it. Apparently they finally got loud enough that Michael started paying attention, because the Archangel is giving Dean a violent glare, one that's enough to make the man take a cautionary step back, and says in a very level tone, "We _are_ married."

Adam blinks a few times (Dean just stares with his mouth hanging open) and he almost argues the point. But, almost immediately, Michael goes back to his devout focus on the scars and mumbling his distaste for the intricate designs of ink that peak out from under Adam's shirt; he goes back to pressing his hands to the scars that go unseen under his clothes and he knows.

They've already had centuries together; and, whether or not Dean or Sam want to acknowledge those years, they've spent enough lifetimes together. They don't need a stupid ceremony to make it official and Adam's perfectly ok with that, even when he's trying to batter Michael away for just a few seconds so he can get another slice of turnover when Dean finally leaves the kitchen (likely to find Cas or Sam for some kind of explanation) and, this time, he's far too pleased when Michael finally concedes to letting Adam feed him a few bites of the pastry, even though he's muttering about a sugar-induced headache not twenty minutes later.

* * *

I need to do more with this 'verse. But, anyways, I'm just here to ask people please check my profile for an update regarding November. If you would. Thank you, I'm going to roll away now. /bows out


	4. Regret

[From my tumblr; was intended to be an askfic for my girlfriend. It got too long.]

no plot. lots of babbling. implied Midam. mild-canon,notreally. background Sam and Dean and Gabs and Cas. Mostly babbling.

* * *

It's still strange to see Michael in the hospital; seeing him hooked up to machines that he would complain about just after the Cage. To actually listen to the terrifying beeps on the heart monitor and realise why Michael was always twitch-y while Adam was recovering from a near fatal hunt. And, really, he wants nothing more than to yell at the Archangel. He knows he frequently doesn't have enough juice left to heal (he barely has enough to fly most days). He knows he's just steps away from being human.

And, what's perhaps worse, is that Adam knows he probably wouldn't have survived the hit. If Michael hadn't taken the brunt of it—no. The worst part is that the driver had just walked away in a drunken stupor, muttering about hitting a deer. In the middle of town. Granted, a very small town; but in the middle of town, _on a goddamn sidewalk_. Adam can't make himself go in the room; he just hovers at the door. He doesn't fight when Sam and Dean fuss over him and demand to see his reports.

A minor concussion, some nasty scrapes (he tells them as such, but he's not sure they hear him); but, compared to Michael, it's not much more than skinned knees. Gabriel's glaring at his back and Castiel probably is, too. Adam doesn't care (too much). At least, not about Cas. It was his damn fault Adam had needed out of the motel in the first place. Michael had just followed to make sure he didn't try running off again, even when Adam tried to tell him to go back and wait at the motel.

Michael had just pressed against his side and let his wing ghost across Adam's back, just for a moment, for a sense of security. And, it had been so much nicer. Just walking around for once; not being bait for his idiot half-brothers, not trying to get rid of Gabriel. Just them. Like it had been for centuries, with a bonus of no Lucifer. And, honestly, Adam's still not sure how he hadn't noticed the headlights behind them. Maybe it's proof he hasn't adjusted as well as he likes to think.

He just remembers hearing Michael's wings—feeling them spread out behind him—before Michael yanked his arm and closed his wings around both of them. He remembers the painful thud of hitting concrete with too much force and seeing stars for a few minutes. And then he remembers panicking when Michael didn't heal right away; when Michael hadn't razed the entire block in a flash of anger. (It wouldn't have been worse than the hostage situation with the vampires, really.]

After that, it's just a blur of ambulance lights and trying to tell the doctors he was fine. That he just wanted to check on his friend and trying to figure out how to explain the strange x-rays of his back. (He makes a note to ask Gabriel about the extra bone structures from their wings; because he's not sure how the Hell he's supposed to explain that.) But, none of that matters anymore. Right now, he just needs to will himself to go in the room and try not to leave until Michael wakes up.

* * *

pardon the strange paragraphs.  
I don't think they look too strange. But, like I said; it started out as an askfic and I didn't want to send six separate asks.

Also, another friendly reminder to please check my profile for details concerning November and ideas of what to write.


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